Hell Butterflies in the Wind
by Sophia E
Summary: Even after all these years, it still made him sick inside. With a practiced hand, Ichigo set the switch on the second incendiary device. Rukia skidded to a stop in front of him. "Why are you doing this, Ichigo?" He could see the flames from the fire he had set reflected in her eyes. He forced a smirk onto his face. "Does it matter?" Post-canon.


Even after all these years, it still made him sick inside. With a practiced hand, Ichigo set the switch on the second incendiary device. He took a step back to the edge of the wide downtown sidewalk, eyes automatically checking left and right. People were already running away from the explosion set by the previous device, leaving a large clear area in the once-bustling downtown street. Craning his head and shading his eyes, he scanned the façade of the skyscraper, his eyes narrowed as he focused on his target: the third window from the left on the eleventh floor. The muscles in his arms bunched as he lobbed the device. It hit the window dead center, shattering the glass and smashing into the room inside. A flick of kido set it off, and Ichigo closed his eyes to visualize the explosion pattern and guide it where he wanted.

The flames from the other device were already overtaking the ground floor. There were more screams as pedestrians fled the scene and drivers abandoned cars in the middle of the street. He heard sirens in the distance as he turned to make his escape. He glanced at the stopwatch hanging from a cord around his neck. Good. Still plenty of time.

When he looked up he felt the reiatsu before he saw the shinigami in captain's robes flash-stepping toward him at top speed, dancing lightly over the roofs of stopped cars. His eyes widened. It couldn't be. Out of all the shinigami in the world, the one he had tried most assiduously to avoid was now running straight toward him, zanpakutou in hand.

He glanced behind him, looking for an escape route, and then gave it up. She was too close, and too fast. He could outdistance her, given time, but time was not what he had at the moment. Sighing, he turned to face her.

She had let her hair grow out so it fell to her shoulders once again, one stubborn strand still hanging between her deep violet eyes. Ichigo scowled. He would have given just about anything to have avoided confronting her like this. But now there was no choice. He drew both blades and turned to face her, taking a loose, ready stance, face expressionless.

Rukia skidded to a stop in front of him, a deep line between her brows. "Ichigo! So it is really you."

He could see the flames from the fire he had set reflected in her eyes. Squashing all his emotions into a tiny ball, he forced a smirk onto his face. "Of course. Surely, you didn't think it was an illusion?"

She snorted, and for a moment she almost sounded like the old Rukia, the one he remembered from long ago. "You idiot. As if you could ever fool me."

His eyes flicked over her. She was still slender and as tiny as he remembered, her white captain's haori fluttering in the blasts of heat shooting out into the street from the wide doors behind him. A Chappy pendant hung at her throat. But he could feel that the power and density of her reiatsu had grown tremendously since he had last encountered her.

He attempted a casual salute. "I knew it wouldn't be long until they promoted you. You look good in a captain's haori, Rukia. What happened? Isn't Ukitake still alive?"

She winced and shook her head. "You should know better than to expect I'll give out free intelligence." Her eyes darted from him to the burning building behind him. "Why are you doing this, Ichigo?" she demanded.

He shrugged. "Does it matter?" He raised his zanpakutou and began to circle to her left, looking for an opening. "You know we have to fight, now that we're on opposite sides."

"I don't want to fight you!" Rukia cried, not lowering her guard as she turned to face him. Her movements were fluid and practiced. She would be a dangerous opponent. He would have to be careful not to underestimate her. In the old days, his power had rapidly outstripped hers, but now that Urahara had rejoined Soul Society his power-enhancing inventions had been coming out with frightening regularity. Ichigo had learned the hard way not to enter any battles based on previous estimates of his opponents' strength.

"Neither do I. But we have no choice." He shifted his weight and attacked, swinging Zangetsu in an overhead blow that he knew would be familiar to her. The shinigami were not the only ones who could try to get their enemies to underestimate them.

She sidestepped and blocked him easily, sweeping Sode no Shirayuki in an elegant arc. The clash of their swords rang loudly in the now-deserted street. Ichigo could still hear the whoosh and rush of the flames behind him, the cracking of girders and the shattering of glass.

"Ichigo, you have to tell me. At least tell me why." Her voice rose. "You owe me that at the very least!" There was a note of something he had never heard before in her voice, and Ichigo gritted his teeth as their weapons engaged and he could feel her anguish in her sword.

Instead of answering, he shut his mouth firmly, and then spun and disengaged, drawing back several meters. She stood alone on the sidewalk, looking tiny but fierce. Her eyes had narrowed and he could see the fire of resolve that had had such an impact on him when he was still an impressionable teenager. It was part of what made her extremely difficult to defeat, and still sometimes when he fought, he drew upon her teaching for inspiration.

He didn't want to kill her, but he needed to incapacitate her, and quickly. He didn't glance at the stopwatch on his chest but he knew the numbers were ticking down inexorably. All she had to do was delay him, and it would all be over. The bitter fear swirled in his chest at the thought of what would happen if he failed, and his chin came up, the flame of resolve sparking in his own body. He had to keep her from going into bankai – if he incapacitated her in that state it could cause collateral damage to the humans around them. But it had been a long day of fighting and traveling from target to target, and he was exhausted, although working hard to keep her from seeing it. He was no longer sure if he had the raw strength in shikai to knock her out while retaining enough control to keep from killing her.

"Dance, Sode no Shirayuki," Rukia called, turning her blade in a circle. As it turned white, Ichigo felt cold air rushing all around them, and he felt the heat of the flames at his back get snuffed out. Damn! If enough of the building didn't burn, he would have to start all over again. But it was too late to think about it as she was already moving toward him with deadly speed. Instinctively, he blocked with Zangetsu and twisted, striking with his smaller blade just under the pommel of her sword and ripping a slice in her side, careful to avoid her vital organs.

Rukia gasped and drew back, puffs of her breath emerging into the icy air as she pressed one hand to the gash in her side. Blood spurted from between her fingers.

"Ichigo. I know this isn't you," she panted, breathing heavily as she directed her energy to knitting the two sides of the wound together. "Just tell me what could possibly be making you work for him," she went on. He could sense from her reiatsu that she was in considerable pain, but none of it showed on her face as she glared at him, her sword still raised.

Once again he dashed forward, Zangetsu held over his head, but at the last minute he swerved and this time nicked her on her outer thigh before she could parry. She stumbled backwards but maintained her footing. His eyes narrowed. She wasn't going all out for some reason, surprisingly, given that she was going up against Soul Society's Public Enemy Number Two. Was she delaying, waiting for the cavalry to arrive? He probed the surrounding area, trying to sense approaching reiatsu.

"I'm not working _for_ him. I would never do that."

Still gasping, her eyes filled with horror and she drew back as if struck. "No… you're not working _with_ him. You can't be."

Ichigo exhaled. He supposed it didn't matter at this point if he told her. "Why not?"

She gulped. "Then the rumors… are true?" Her face, already pale from blood loss, turned paler still. "You mean… you're _with_ him –" Her voice faltered. "Do you love him then?"

Ichigo's jaw dropped. "What?" He stared at her. "No, of course not!" he sputtered. "That's crazy! How can you accuse me of such a thing? I'm not gay!"

Rukia's upper lip quivered and suddenly she was laughing. "I knew that would get a rise out of you." She chortled. "The captain commander calls you an insane mass murderer, and you shrug it off. You turn against all your friends and ignore our messages. But question your sexual preference and you're suddenly ready to go bankai." She grinned, her face still startlingly pale. "You've got some kind of secret, and I swear I'm going to find out what it is. And what's more, I know exactly how to do so."

But Ichigo wasn't listening any more. He had glanced at his timer. Shit! Only thirty seconds to go! He needed to move, and fast. Wounded as she was, Rukia would be unable to keep up with him. He ignored her last words, spun and sped away.

"This isn't over yet! I'm sending Chappy after you, Ichigo…!"

Her voice faded as the wind rushed in his ears. He was putting everything he had left into his shunpo. He dashed from rooftop to rooftop, counting the street numbers mechanically as he looked for the landmark below. When he spotted it, he jumped directly into the narrow alley, landing in a muddy puddle and scaring a scrawny dark cat who yowled as it leaped off a pile of trash cans. In the dim light he saw it, gleaming faintly at the end of the alley. The tear in space of a timed garganta, slowly closing. He panted, running down the alley at full tilt. There were only seconds to go, and the edges of the portal were drawing closer together. He wasn't going to make it.

At the last second he launched himself into the air, diving for the garganta.

He could hear it snap shut just behind him as he tucked and rolled on the moonlit desert sands, coming to his feet in a flurry of sand, his robes swirling around him.

The tall man in white waiting for him chuckled. "Well, you cut it close, Ichigo." He stepped forward and lifted a panel of Ichigo's robes, sheared neatly off at the end in a clean triangle. "If that had been your foot, you would have been permanently crippled."

Ichigo lowered his brows and glared. "I accomplished the mission, so shut up, Aizen."

* * *

><p><em><strong>Author's note 94/14:**__ Do you want me to continue? Please let me know, yes or no._

_And does anyone have any guesses as to what is going on? I'm curious to hear your ideas._


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